


Music of the Heart

by fontech



Category: Young Avengers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-17 13:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fontech/pseuds/fontech
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-volume 1. A series of ficlets spanning the entire (to-date) series, poking at their relationship development and Billy's love for a certain musical. WIP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Week One – The Hills Are Alive

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing Young Avengers fanfic or BillyTeddy so be gentle!? (The title is stupid, dwi)
> 
> This is for Kukki, who is my precious.

Every Sunday night, without fail, Billy watches The Sound of Music.  It's a reward, he says, for a full week of school, family obligation, homework, and now super hero training. Teddy agrees wholeheartedly that a high school student with super powers deserves a movie break once in a while.

But.

“ _Every_  week? Seriously?”

“Every week,” Billy confirms, settling into his spot on the couch with a shameless grin. “Mom takes my brothers to hockey practice and Dad goes out with some friends, so I always get the apartment to myself. Pretty sure I’d drive them crazy if I did it any other day.”

Teddy lifts a brow, none-too-impressed by this revelation, and finds himself a spot somewhat reluctantly beside his friend. He’d accepted Billy’s invitation to join him for a test cram session and a hang-out afterwards, since the two had been naturally drawn to one another since Iron Lad – Nate – had introduced them all just a few weeks ago, but as soon as Billy had pulled the obviously-well-loved collector’s edition DVD from a drawer and put it into the player, he felt the flicker of misgivings. As a shapeshifter, his existence is fluid by nature and thus he can be called many things. A musical fan is  _not_  one of those things.

The Disney logo comes to life with a blare of sound, and Teddy scratches absently at an ear. Super-hearing sucks sometimes. “I think we could use another hour of algebra.”

“Don’t be stupid, you’re gonna love it. …Oh, dammit, where’s the remote-”

Billy’s laughing at him. He’s not doing it out loud, but he is definitely laughing. Teddy studies the dark-haired teen for a long moment, letting his gaze drift indulgently on his profile in the fading light of the day; his slender form is as nice as ever to look at, even in that rumpled old orange sweatshirt, but what Teddy finds his eyes drawn to is Billy’s expression as he fiddles with the controller to get things set up. First there’s frustration – commercials he can’t skip, stupid menu functions – then there’s the hint of a smile, as the legality warning fades from view. Almost there.

And then, as the overture begins, a booming note identical to the menu itself, Billy’s cheeks dimple a little with a full-on grin. There’s love in that expression, the nostalgia of childhood, the indulgence of small pleasures in the ever-chaotic life of a teenage super hero. Still smiling, Billy glances over his shoulder at Teddy, brows lifting a little.

“See? I told you that you’d love it.”

“…What?” Teddy asks, leaning into the couch cushions as Billy flops back into place beside him. He feels a hot blush cross his cheeks as he realizes he’d just been caught staring, but the brunette makes no comment or even an indication that he’d noticed.

Billy smirks and reaches out a hand to idly poke a finger briefly against Teddy’s lips. It’s a surprisingly personal gesture, one that catches him off guard again.

“You’re smiling,” Billy says simply. He turns back to the TV and stretches out, making himself comfortable for the long haul of a nearly-3-hour movie.

Teddy just blinks, forcing his gaze away from Billy and very carefully pursing his lips. He had, most definitely, been smiling.

_“My heart wants to sing every song it hears…”_

…This is probably going to complicate things, isn’t it?


	2. Week Two - Something Good

Teddy did not, in fact, love The Sound of Music. He’d been very good about it; better than Billy had expected, actually. He’d indulged Billy’s occasional commentary, patiently tolerated the finger at his lips – less personal this time – when he’d tried to talk about something less to do with singing nuns and been none-too-politely told to shut up.

Somewhere in the middle of it, he’d dozed off. Right on Billy’s shoulder. And as soon as he’d felt the weight on his arm, Billy had glanced over, lifted a brow, and then returned his attention to the movie without a word. Teddy was kind of an abnormal mixture of jock and geek to the degree of being surreal; he’d been the reigning star of the basketball team, but he plays Pokemon during his lunch break. He didn’t fit with the typical jock personality, though – which is  _wonderful_ , because Billy’s been pushed into plenty of lockers by those types – but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be left his manly pride.

So when Teddy had awoken sometime during the credits, mumbling apologies and rubbing at an eye, Billy had grinned, teased only a  _little_ , and offered to fly his friend home before it got too late. He hadn’t commented on the fact that Teddy had blushed like a fire truck, or that he’d drooled on Billy’s sweatshirt, or that Billy himself had probably watched him sleep more than he’d watched the movie after the blond had dozed off. There really was no way to say it without sounding  _creepy_ , anyway.

Because of this experience, however, the real surprise turns out to be the fact that the following Sunday, just as they’re leaving a training session to head home, Teddy asks him somewhat shyly if they can hang out again.

Billy stops mid-step, glancing over his shoulder with wide eyes. “It’s Sunday,” he responds in a musing tone, testing the blond’s memory.

“I know that!” Teddy replies, suddenly looking more awkward than before. One hand toys with his hair, scuffling tousled bangs out of his eyes. “But I slept through half of it. Won’t kill me to see the ending.”

It takes a moment for that to sink in, namely because Billy has to decide whether or not Teddy is actually  _serious_. And that doubt stems not from Teddy’s honesty but from Billy’s experience. His poor teammate is already getting antsy at the silence, though, so Billy finally smiles and shrugs his shoulders, gesturing for Teddy to follow him. “C’mon, you can stay for supper tonight. Mom and Dad won’t mind.”

Within three hours they’re back on the couch, positioned much the same way as the week before, halfway through the film. Billy is attentive, smiling, content as always. The movie is his element, his comfort food, his weekly indulgence. And Teddy?

Teddy is starting to doze off again. Or at least, that’s how it seems; even as another song starts up, the beautiful moonlit duet, he can see the blond head tilting oh-so-subtly in the direction of Billy’s shoulder. He glances over, watching the other boy’s face, a curious expression crossing his own. He could ignore it, quietly let it happen again. Another indulgence, really, and who could blame him?

Instead he lifts his shoulder a little, bumping it lightly against Teddy’s head. “Hey, T, you’re falling asleep again.”

Teddy jerks upright at the voice at his ear, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, visibly startled – moreso, Billy thinks, than someone who’d merely been tired ought to be. He mutters an apology, scrubbing at his eye, and straightens up to keep watching the film, looking oddly guilty.

Billy watches him, instead. Long enough to make Teddy glance over at him again, swallowing once before muttering, “What is it?”

What, indeed? Billy offers no response for a long moment besides an owlish blink, scrutinizing his friend. Teddy shifts awkwardly, waiting, but it isn’t until he opens his mouth to ask again that Billy speaks.

“You know,” he proclaims suddenly, turning his gaze back to the film, “…You know, you don’t have to fake it. I don’t mind.”

He doesn't have to turn in order to know how brilliantly Teddy is blushing at that moment. He knows, and it only encourages his own smile to grow. He’d been afraid to speak up, afraid of the consequences, afraid of getting the sort of treatment from his new friend and teammate that he’d received from jocks since middle school.

Now, sitting on the couch with him, red-cheeked and stunned speechless, with Julie Andrews singing a love song in the background, Teddy shows him without a single word just how stupid he’d been to fear  _anything_.

He chuckles under his breath, reaches between them, and curls his fingers around Teddy’s, squeezing gently.  _It’s okay. I don’t mind._

_”I must have done something…”_

It takes a moment – a moment almost painfully long, coming close to reviving those fears he’d only just been able to dismiss – but then he feels Teddy’s hand move in his own, turning, grasping, holding. And then without a word, a slight weight on his shoulder.

_”…something good…”_

And it isn’t until the sudden blare of the church organ as Maria marches down the aisle, causing Teddy to jump upright and nearly shift into Hulkling mode, that Billy realizes that he hadn’t been entirely faking it at all. And he  _laughs_.

Teddy’s still holding his hand.


	3. Week Three - I'll Take Care of You

 “One of these days I’ll get you to sing it.”

“It’s not happening.”

“Come on, T. It totally fits us!”

“I am  _not_  a Nazi!”

Billy laughs and shushes him, mentally thanking his own luck – normally so terrible – that his parents aren’t home. He really shouldn’t laugh at something like that, considering his own heritage. But the mental image of Teddy as Rolfe is just too amusing to not at least crack a smile.

The tradition of these Sunday gatherings seems to have persisted, even after everything they’ve been through lately; the Young Avengers have been (technically) disbanded, at least until Kate gets her way and convinces them all to get back to “work”, Iron Lad has returned to his timeline, and they’re still struggling with the urge to save the world at every opportunity. Also, high school. Always high school.

Besides that, though, they’re… comfortable. That’s a good word for it. As evidenced by their position- Teddy has given up on pretending to show an inkling of interest in the movie, instead stretching out on the couch with his head using Billy’s thigh as a pillow. These days he tends to doze through most of it, only waking up when a chord gets particularly loud (which happens more often than he’d like), or Billy starts singing along (which happens only occasionally), or he feels his boyfriend’s fingers catch on a knot while stroking his hair (which happens a lot, because his hair is impossible). This time it was the second reason, lifting his gaze to watch in tolerant amusement while Billy starts singing the girl’s part of that silly teenage love song with astonishing accuracy. Both in the lyrical sense and pitch.

“I didn’t know your voice went that high.”

Billy smirks, his hand sliding down from the back of the couch to find Teddy’s, weaving their fingers casually together. Ever since that first evening Teddy had discovered – with great pleasure – just how  _touchy_  Billy is. It’s adorable, really, how often they seem to be in contact with one another. And even in such a short time, it’s felt nothing but natural.

“Did you hear what I said?”

Teddy blinks, glancing up at the brunette with wide eyes. Had he been dozing, or simply lost in thought? Billy’s expression was a mixture of quizzical annoyance. The music had stopped, the DVD paused. As a rule, Billy didn’t usually do that. “…Uh… no?”

”Yeah, I didn’t think so,” Billy muttered, punching a button on the controller button before setting it down to weave his free hand through Teddy’s hair.  It seems that for the moment he’s been forgiven. 

_”You are sixteen going on seventeen…”_

…Or not. Billy had skipped to the start of the song again, something else that rarely happened. A passive-aggressive little punishment.

Oh well; two can play at this game. He closes his eyes.

“Did you want to be my little damsel, Billy?”

The hands go still in his hair, and he can tell without looking that Billy is turning red. “Wh- _what_? No!”

“I dunno, you make it hard to tell.” Teddy shifts on the couch a little, easing his head a little further into Billy’s lap. “I’ve heard the song enough times to know what they’re saying. Rolfe is the charming, older,  _mature_  guy who’s gonna protect Lisa-“

“Liesl-“

“Liesl from the terrible world full of bad men who will taint her innocent self. And you  _always_  do her part.”

“My voice doesn’t match Rolfe’s range!”

“It  _barely_  matches Liesl’s.”

“I don’t hear you doing any better.”

“Because  _I’m not singing for a Nazi._ ”

“He’s not a Nazi yet!”

“ ’He will be.  _He will be._ ’ ”

“…Just for that, you can enjoy the mental image of Darth Vader-“

“No, Billy, don’t you dare-“

“-Prancing through the corridors of the Death Star-“

“ _Billy_ -“

“ ’The halls are aliiiiiive with the sound of-‘ mmrrph!!”

A pillow to the face causes the argument to dissolve into wrestling, which has, it seems, also become tradition for them. At least once a night.

They untangle themselves before too long – it usually happens around the time that Teddy gets the high ground, which makes it basically impossible for Billy to turn the tables without resorting to magic, and  _that_  only happens if it’s early in the evening and Teddy’s got him pinned. Tonight their positions have been reversed, with Teddy in Billy’s seat, and Billy resting on the top of the couch above him, legs slung casually over the blond’s shoulders, hands toying with his hair again. As Teddy laughs breathlessly, trying to regain his composure, Billy leans down, his cheek briefly pressed to Teddy’s hair, and grabs the remote, skipping back a chapter once again.

“…Three times, Billy? Seriously?” He’s still finding his breath, and from the sound of Billy’s laugh, he is as well; probably why he’s not singing this time.

“What? I like this one, it’s one of my favourites.”

“You say that about all of them.”

“I like this movie, okay?” There’s an oddly playful sulk in Billy’s voice, and Teddy grins, tilting his head up as both hands return to his hair for what must be the tenth time tonight. “Besides, this is the best scene for them. It even ends with a kiss.”

“…Really.”

“Yes,  _really_. You’d know that if you didn’t sleep through it every damn time. It’s supposed to be a really cute, emotional scene but you just-“

His words are cut off, rather abruptly, as Teddy lifts his hands to tug Billy’s head down just enough to press their lips together. It’s brief, awkward, and clumsy, and as they draw apart again and Billy stares down at him in surprise, Teddy can’t help but wonder if that was a dumb idea. They hadn’t really kissed up until that point, and now their first time ever isn’t going to be the stellar, mental-fireworks-inducing moment he’d hoped to remember forever. Oops.

Billy is quiet, his fingers scratching very lightly back and forth in the blond’s hair. It’s a mercifully brief pause, thank god. “…Teddy?”

“...Yeah, B?”

“That was  _so_  Spiderman.”

… _Pffft_. Teddy turns his head to make a retort – perhaps a gloat, because Spiderman is cool and a role model for teenage super heroes and kissing like that is a  _compliment_ , dammit – but Billy is already sliding down from the couch, winding an arm around his shoulder and tugging him closer for a real kiss. Less awkward, still a little clumsy. But a whole lot longer.

They miss the end of the song again; this time, Billy doesn’t rewind. He is, in fact, occupied for the remainder of the film.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would say the ending is pretty heavily inspired by this wonderful art: http://kaciart.tumblr.com/post/10338276376. Honestly, all of the Billy/Teddy art on that blog is inspiring as all hell.


	4. Week Four – So Long, Farewell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Mother's Day.

Moving Teddy and Tommy into the Kaplan household had been, in a word, surreal. After the explosion that had killed Teddy’s mother and destroyed the apartment in one fell swoop, Billy  _could_ have simply mended the building in the aftermath of the invasion, but that didn’t solve the problem of having two now-homeless Young Avengers. It had taken several sit-downs with both his parents and Captain America to sort things out – the Skrull-Kree situation, Mrs. Altman’s death, the fact that they’re  _super heroes_  - but eventually it had been decided: the Kaplan home would be rather crowded in the foreseeable future. Thankfully his parents have rather substantial salaries, enough that a family of seven rather than five (including three superpowered teenage boys) isn’t going to be so terrible a strain. Money aside, it hadn’t been too difficult a decision to make. They had nowhere else to go, after all, and more than that…

…Well, it’s just that Billy is very, very good at convincing people sometimes. Even without the magic at his command.

The fact of the matter is this: Teddy has lost everything, has no other family to speak of, has no one else to turn to. And the Kaplans had welcomed him into the family themselves only weeks before. To take that back would be wrong.

And Tommy? There’s no explaining Tommy without delving into the realm of unbelievable complexities, most of which involve transmogrified souls and lost lives and a story that Tommy himself refuses to believe. But Billy does; Billy believes it wholeheartedly. And the Kaplans had only to look into his eyes in order to realize that to turn Tommy away would mean somehow losing their eldest son. Not that Tommy had agreed or even accepted the invitation, but Billy figures that, eventually, he'll be along. And there will be a place for him when he does.

So here they are, Sunday night, unpacking boxes Billy had conveniently teleported into the new apartment. Coming out as a witch to one’s parents did, apparently, have its perks, even if he was officially grounded for pretty much  _ever_. The funny part was that his parents thought that would actually change anything.

“I can’t believe I lost it,” he mutters under his breath, digging through a box of DVDs and old CDs. “I swear I packed it with the rest of the movies, but it’s not here…!”

“Don’t you think we’re a little busy to watch a movie, B?” Teddy’s response is dubious, opening a box in the back to peer inside, then shutting it again somewhat reluctantly: Box 1 of Billy’s comic book collection. They’d probably be raiding each others’ sets before too long, if only to compare the extent of their fanboyism. And just think, some couples actually go  _out_  sometimes. Kind of like what the Kaplans are doing right now. Hell, even  _Tommy_  ditched them for a night on the town. Barely around for a week and he’s already acting like a full-fledged New Yorker.

“I know that, but we need background music. It’s perfect for that too.” Billy’s tone is matter-of-fact, badly concealing his concern; Teddy knows the real reason is this apparent obsessive-compulsive weekly ritual. He quietly indulges the search for another two minutes before a blue glow across the room catches his attention, as well as a muttered spell, “ _IwanttofindtheSoundofMusicIwanttofindtheSoundofMusic_ \- there it is.”

“… Billy, did you seriously just-“

“ _Shut up,_  you know I did.” Billy pays his criticism no mind, fiddling with the DVD player’s plugs for a moment before starting up the film and returning to his boxes. They fall into comfortable silence for a while, occasionally commenting on what they find in the boxes, tossing a bit of banter back and forth; just enjoying one another’s harmless, playful company. It almost seems like any other day for them.

For a while.

And then Billy makes a flippant comment – afterwards, he could not for the life of him remember what it was, something about a comic book hero’s hilarious costume maybe – and Teddy doesn’t laugh, doesn’t even respond. Doesn’t  _move._  And Billy turns, looking over his shoulder at his boyfriend, laughter dying on his lips. Teddy’s hunched over, silent, trembling. Holding something.

Immediately stricken, Billy clamours over, reaching out to touch the blond’s back as he peers worriedly over a broad shoulder. “What-“

He stops. Shuts his mouth. Curls his fingers tightly in the material of Teddy’s shirt.

It’s a photo, framed and a little dusty, like it’s been buried in a closet somewhere for years. It probably has, in fact- Teddy looks young in the picture, four or five maybe, wearing a baseball cap at least three sizes too big for him, with the pattern of Captain Marvel’s uniform proudly splashed across the top. He’s grinning like he’s the king of the world, one hand on the hat, the other clinging to his mother’s hand for balance; he’s on her shoulders, leaning against her head, and she’s doing her best to smile up at him even with the awkward angle. They look ridiculously happy.

“It was my birthday,” Teddy murmurs, his voice strained, trying very hard to keep himself in control of whatever he’s feeling. He’d cried for her already, and seemed determined not to do it again. “I always figured she got me the wrong hat by mistake - my favourite Avenger was Captain America, and she apologized for getting this one, but I didn’t mind. I think… maybe she did it on purpose. To tell me. So I’d- so I’d have something from him. From… my dad.” He reaches his free hand into the box, pulling out a weathered old hat, the one from the photo, with a signature scrawled over the back.  _Mar-vell_. Captain Marvel. His Kree father.

He lets it drop, as Billy’s arms curl around his shoulders, hugging him tightly from behind. “Teddy…”

“I’m okay,” Teddy whispers, tilting to photo until the edge of it rests on the box, as if he’s unable to hold it up any longer. The glass creaks slightly as his hands start to shake, making Billy hold him even more tightly. “I’m okay, I’m okay…”

Billy kisses the back of his neck, smoothes his hair, and wishes inwardly that there was more he could do. There’s so much of Teddy’s history that he doesn’t know, not just because of his strange, dual-alien background, but his family, the mother he barely knew, had barely gotten the  _chance_  to know. The few times he’d met Mrs. Altman had been pleasant, kind, full of laughter. She’d had Teddy’s smile, his sense of humour, his patient, gentle nature. So much of what he loves about Teddy, what drew him to the other boy and what connects them even now, he has her to thank for.

But he can’t, now. She’s gone, and… and for the first time Teddy seems so  _fragile_  in his arms, just a normal teenage boy, not the super-powered Hulkling who’d helped to defeat Kang, or diffused a brewing war between the Kree and the Skrull races. Just a grieving son.

Billy holds him close, chewing worriedly on his lower lip, and wishes for what must be the millionth time that he’d been stronger, faster, more powerful. If he’d been better with his spells, if he’d practiced more, he could have saved her, protected her, healed her. Instead, he’d failed her, and in the process failed  _Teddy_. And that was the worst of it – that this pain could have been prevented.

All the times that Teddy’s watched his back, and he couldn’t even do this much.

“Teddy… Teddy, I’m sorry, I-“ he tries to apologize, his grip tightening a little on Teddy’s shirt, but Teddy lifts his head abruptly, clamping a hand over Billy’s mouth before he can get any further with it.

“Don’t,” he mumbles, his voice faint. “Don’t start on that again, B. You know better.”

To Billy’s surprise, Teddy’s eyes are dry, if a little red. He cries so rarely, but Billy had assumed that he’d be crying again, after a moment like that. Projecting again, he knows; if their roles had been reversed, he’ve have bawled his eyes out a dozen times already. But Teddy merely bows his head again, and Billy  _does_  stop, gently tugging Teddy’s hand away from his mouth and leaning in to kiss the blond’s forehead before drawing him close once more. He does know better. Teddy doesn’t blame him for it; Teddy’s not angry that he couldn’t save her. Teddy wasn’t even angry at the  _Skrull_  who killed her. It’s not in his nature to place blame where it doesn’t belong. Even now, even after everything, he’s still looking after Billy.

He wants to protest this, to tell Teddy off for it, to shake him and  _make_  him cry, because it’s what he needs, it’s what anyone would need. To say “your mom died, it’s okay to cry.” But Teddy would get that  _look_ , and Billy would know he’d gone too far, and it would just make them both feel worse. He knows. Hates it, just a little. That Teddy is as stubborn as a rock and so much stronger than he is.

But it’s okay. It’s okay. He could never hate  _Teddy_  for it, because he loves those traits, too. It’s okay because Teddy knows that when the walls break and he can’t do it anymore, he can’t be strong, he can’t hold back… he knows that Billy will be there for him, just like this.

So Billy doesn’t protest. He hugs Teddy to his chest, kisses him, strokes his hair. Quietly waits it out.

He’ll cry when it’s time.

_”Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye…”_


End file.
